To celebrate her 50th birthday Catherine Mack takes a leap into the wilderness
of Soomaa National Park in Estonia, equipped with a pair of bog shoes, a
canoe and a keen eye for wolves.

If ever I could do with a full moon, it’s now. Because I find myself standing beside a man I don’t know, in a dead-as-night spruce forest in the middle of nowhere, as he emits the most perfect wolf howl. A few seconds pass, and sure enough a real wolf howls back in response, followed by the other seven members of the pack.

According to Bert, the nature guide who is leading this night-time safari into the woods surrounding the Soomaa National Park in Estonia, the first response is from the alpha male, closely followed by the alpha female and then the rest of the pack. And as this alpha male of a man suggests that we wait in total silence to see if the male wolf comes out to see who is calling on his territory, I am feeling far from alpha female. I am totally terrified.

It is at this point that I wonder why I have come in search of wilderness. Some sort of process to comprehend the wilderness within at turning 50, maybe? Or am I seeking solitude in an effort to shed half a century of baggage? No matter: whatever the reason, the wilderness is a great place to just be. Or, in fact, to howl to the wolves, if that is your thing.

The Soomaa National Park is one of 12 protected wilderness areas in Europe and a member of the Pan Parks Foundation, an organisation which aims to protect some of this continent’s most undisturbed land and seascapes. Just two hours’ drive from Estonia’s capital, Tallinn, I am on a four-day guided tour of this wetland wonder, so wet in fact, that it completely floods in spring, leading to what is called the Fifth Season, when tourists also flood in to canoe around once-a-year trails through forests and fields.

I want to see Soomaa in its entirety, however, without all the water, although it is hard escaping it on my first guided trip into its heartland – the Kuresoo Bog, which stretches for 43 square miles. Kuresoo is the largest of four vast peat bogs inside the National Park, explaining the translation of Soomaa, meaning Land of Bogs.

We start our journey at the riverside home of Aivar Ruukel, the founder of Wilderness Experience in Soomaa, a company which caters for those who want to travel beyond the stag-filled bars of the capital. Here, his father, Ain, greets us with a basket of freshly picked apples and a jug of just-brewed rowan berry tea simmering on the garden table to warm us up on this sunny autumnal day before our trip.

'Bog-shoeing' in the wilderness

The bog is encircled by seven rivers which meander through birch and spruce forests, leading eventually, and slowly, uphill to the raised plains of peat. Most tourists access the bog at boardwalk entry points, but as these only cover a few miles of the perimeter we take the longer route into its heart, an impossible task without the expert Ruukel father-and-son knowledge.

This family has lived and loved the bog life for years. They guide us across the river by canoe near Körgoja, through the forest along concealed ancient tracks, all the time looking instinctively for elk or wild boar prints, uncovering treasure troves full of wild chanterelle mushrooms, or holding my hand to silence me as a raccoon dog lashes through the trees up ahead.

Their eyes are always open to nature’s surprises, their focus on the fecundity – and fun – of it all. This is not affected for nature-loving visitors, it is in their hearts. And in their bags, which, by the time we reach the resting spot of a deserted farm, are crammed with lingberries, cloudberries, cranberries and blueberries. The only sign of my foraging is on my lips, like a child let loose in a sweet shop.

It is only as we emerge from the forest at the Toonoja peninsula that we don our bog shoes which, just like snowshoes, stop you sinking into the depths. They clip on easily with straps to my hiking boots, and I take my first step from solid ground on to pure peat moss, a totally alien sensation which can only be likened to bouncing on a giant wet trampoline as terra firma segues into one big soft mass of squelching sphagnum.

The bright blue sky which suddenly encompasses us has black clouds looming on the horizon, and I feel an urge to up my pace, but apparently running is the worst thing to do on the bog. And so, I tread slowly and lightly on the myriad red and green mosses, interspersed with grey lichens and purple heathers, all of which add a soggy great spring to my step as I begin the seven-mile crossing of this extraordinary wilderness.

My hips are starting to feel the pressure of pushing through peat when we stop to picnic by a bog pool. These pools are scattered all over the bog, concealed by reeds but offering a glistening presence in the distance, like mirages in the desert. Unlike many other peat bogs around the world, Soomaa’s grew out of the ground, “rising slowly like a loaf of bread,” Aivar says, “and forming cracks on the crust where rainwater lakes have now been formed – these were our swimming pools when we were children.”

After six hours of bogshoeing, I feel as if I have done an uphill trek of the Alps, and I welcome the wood-burning sauna at my guesthouse. Saunas are as much a tradition here as they are in neighbouring Finland, built in wooden cabins beside a river or lake so that you can dip in and out quickly. And being the tradition and all, I think it rude not to indulge, especially after my charming host leaves me a bottle of the local liqueur, Vana Tallinn , to make my cultural immersion complete.

Canoes are also a major part of the tradition here, with so much wetland to negotiate, and Aivar has inherited the master skills of carving dugouts from Aspen trees, and leads workshops from time to time. We have a quick excursion in an eight-man dugout, a work of art which took months to build, but we swap to the more modern version for our day-long canoeing session.

Within minutes of paddling down the Raudna river, I see why. Trees fall over these narrow waterways from time to time and although we are able to paddle under some of them, sometimes we have to get out and carry the canoes through meadows or mire to access the water beyond.

This is some of the most tranquil canoeing I have ever experienced, however, paddling into hidden creeks, seeking out beaver dams, admiring ancient forest or just lying back and letting the current carry me and my thoughts along with it.

We spend our last day foraging for mushrooms, filling buckets full of chanterelles and polletti, which we take back to cook at Aivar’s family home, joining his generous-hearted parents for a feast of home-made elk salami, home-grown potatoes and tomatoes.

After lunch I ask if there is still time for one quick trip back up to the bog, as I have one hankering desire which has stayed with me since our first excursion.

“The wolves might scare me, but the bog pools don’t,” I shout to Aivar. I take one last jump into the wilderness and swim around the cool, soft waters of Soomaa, in the hope of leaving a little of this peaty perfection on my skin for as long as possible.

Essentials

Catherine Mack travelled as a guest of Wilderness Experience in Soomaa (soomaa.com). From €510 (£435) per person (minimum two people), including airport transfer from Tallinn or Riga in Latvia, four days of guided activities, five nights’ accommodation and all meals. Activities include canoeing, bogshoeing, foraging, wild animal tracking, or backcountry skiing and kicksparking (travelling about on a sort of bicycle on skis) in winter.

1 There has been well-established collaboration between the national parks of Oulanka in Finland and Paanajärvi in Russia since a treaty was made between the two governments in 1992. They are both members of the European Pan Parks network (panparks.org), and you can explore them on one trip, watching bears come out of their boreal forest habitats to drink on the shores of Lake Paanajärvi; white-water rafting on the Oulanka River; and recording wildlife sightings on a calmer rafting trip, as part of the University of Oulu’s conservation work (exodus.co.uk).

2The Norfolk Broads (below) is Britain’s largest protected wetland, and there is no better way to see it than by total immersion. Based upon a Norfolk Wherry boat, the wild-swimming company Coningham-Rolls offers a week-long trip of guided swims along the rivers Waveney, Yare, Chet and Wensum between Beccles in Suffolk and the city of Norwich (coningham-rolls.com).

3 The Lower Oder Valley National Park is one big riverside meadow, with 40 miles of fields, flowers and wetlands flanking the Polish and German sides of the Oder, all of which then branch out into a labyrinth of waterways. It is a birdwatching paradise in early autumn when thousands of cranes stop there during migration, along with storks, lesser-spotted eagles, corncrakes and hawfinches. The park authority organises canoe trails along the waterways, which are motorboat-free. See nationalpark-unteres-odertal.de/en and flusslandschaft-reisen.de.

4 Canoe and camp along Scotland’s Great Glen, starting at Fort William in the west and ending up on Loch Ness, with a series of lochs and locks to negotiate en route. Families in search of outdoor adventure can tackle this or other aquatic exploits such as sea kayaking on the Sound of Arisaig in the West Highlands with Wilderness Scotland (wildernessscotland.com).

5 La Maddalena Archipelago National Park in Sardinia is described by Pan Parks as a “rare piece of Mediterranean wilderness”. It is also Sardinia’s first national park, and although it has not received its wilderness certification yet, it is striving to gain this through conservation and sustainable tourism efforts. Spend a week swimming from island to island with Swimtrek (swimtrek.com), or stay on the dry land of Santa Maria, using one of the boats on offer at the luxury villa La Casitta to access the rest of the archipelago (lacasitta.com).

6 Inishtrahull is Ireland’s most northerly island, about six miles off Malin Head in Co Donegal. Donegal is one of the country’s most remote and undisturbed counties, but you can literally go farther and wilder with Far and Wild (farandwild.co.uk) activity holiday company, which leads sea-kayaking, coasteering and wild camping trips out to this most far-flung emerald isle.